American Bad Boy(31)

Her full lips twist up for the first time since I’ve seen her. Her face lights up and almost knocks the wind from my lungs with a simple smile. “I remember.”

“Yeah, well, so you know it’s probably nothing. Normal guy stuff.”

“No. It’s more than that. He’s on a path of self destruction, Mack. He was expelled from school and then the next day he was picked up by the police for trashing a convenience store with his friends. This isn’t just normal boys will be boys type stuff anymore. He’s turning into a criminal.” Tears fall back down her cheeks as her chin quivers.

“Hey, hey, come here. It’s ok,” Lauren steps back against me and I wrap my arms around her. “It’s ok. Let it out. You’re dealing with a lot right now.”

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” she confesses as she nuzzles her face against my chest. I run my palm over her black hair and try to figure out how I can help.

“Bring him here.”

“What? Why?” She looks into my eyes.

“Bring him here and I’ll talk to him, man-to-man. Good ol’ Captain America might not do much for you,” I give her a wink, “but a lot of guys Chris’s age think it’s cool or I’m cool or whatever. I bet if I could chat with him, I can help. At least a little.”

Lauren dries her tears and contemplates my offer. “That might not be a bad idea, actually,” she admits.

“Yeah, every once and a while I have a good one.” I give her a playful squeeze and she laughs.

“Ok. You know what, I will. I’ll bring him tomorrow. It’s not like he’s in school or anything.”

“Sounds good. That’ll give me time to think about what to say to him.”

“Ok. Thanks, Mack. I mean it. I think that you’ll really help. But, even if it doesn’t, I appreciate you stepping up like this.”

Lauren steps up on her tip-toes and quickly pecks my cheek with an innocent kiss. Just as quickly, she steps back, opens the door and disappears through it.

“You’re welcome,” I whisper to the empty stairwell.

Lauren is right, she does know me. The real me. And I know her. She still has feelings for me. I know that’s why she just smoke-bombed me. But, that’s ok, because I still have feelings for her too.

And by feelings, I mean I love her.





17





Lauren





2014




“C’mon, Chris. Quit dragging your feet and get a move on.” I call back over my shoulder. He’s not too happy that I’m forcing him to come to work with me today. I told him I was gonna make him mop floors, not that he’ll be meeting one of his heroes.

It was nice of Mack to offer to talk to him. I think Chris might actually listen to someone he admires so much. With all the media coverage Mack has gotten, I think Chris sees him as a bit of a father figure.

Little does he know.

My gut twists with guilt when I think about how I still need to figure out how to discuss that with Mack. After all, he has a right to know that Chris is his son. I just need things to calm down a bit first. It’s hard to bring up his paternity in casual conversation. Between his son making me run off to get him out of trouble every five minutes, and Mack trying to make a move on me every five seconds …. Well, it makes it difficult to throw it in the mix.

“I’m coming, jeez, calm down.” Chris sulks behind me.

That does it.

I whirl around on my heel with my finger already drawn like a cowboy at a quick draw. “Listen to me, young man. I’m not one of your little friends. You talk to me with respect, Christopher. If you want to keep pushing me, I swear, I’ll have you scrubbing bed pans by the end of the day.”

His eyes grow about two sizes bigger. He doesn’t need to know I don’t deal with bedpans at my job. “Now, stand up straight and get your attitude in check.”

I wait for the smart remark, or the eye roll, or the sigh. My shoulders are so tense; I feel like a cat ready to pounce on a field mouse. However, Chris just nods at me, straightens up and walks beside me.

“Ok, let’s go,” he agrees, leaving me in far deeper shock than if he would’ve tried to curse at me again.

I might be surprised, but I’m not about to let him know. “That’s right, let’s go,” I parrot his words and march my son into the hospital.

We make it all the way to the elevator and Chris still hasn’t given me anymore flack. This has to be some kind of record.

When the elevator doors pop open on Mack’s floor, I’m actually feeling something I haven’t felt in a long time: optimism. It’s a cautious optimism, but I’ll take it over the bleeding-ulcer-worry I’ve been dealing with all week.